


Chasing Demons

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comforting Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilty Castiel, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Cas is the one that needs the reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Demons

There was a time when reaching a stray arm out across an empty bed just meant above-their-usual-standard motel accommodation that was wide enough to roll over in. Nowadays, the cold spot next to him said it had not-so-recently been vacated, and that Dean had woken up alone. It was something he'd come to not enjoy at all.

Dean sighed, rolled until his face buried in his pillow for a moment then pushed up, shoving the staticy-clinging duvet away and reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed.

Sam said they were magnets, because it didn't seem to matter where they were, or who they were with, they gravitated towards one another. Dean showed his token irritation for Sam's commentary, but it was pointless denying what was fact. Instinct told Dean he'd find Cas where there were snacks and silence. 3am might be witching hour to many, but for Cas, it was the Hour Of Guilt. Often when they were on a hunt he'd wake to see Cas' silhouette at the window, candy bar in hand, seeing but not seeing whatever was outside. Tonight must be a bad one because Cas was nowhere to be seen.

Sometimes Cas found his way to Sam's room. It had been a while since Sam had first walked in on them being a lot more than profoundly-bonded friends, and from that time, with Sam stumbling out of that first door frame to grab himself his own room, they'd always booked two. Dean didn't flinch at the memory, even though in the moment he'd thought his own personal world was ending, because words like 'acceptance' and 'love' just weren't part of his vocabulary.

Tonight didn't feel like a Sam night. Cuffing the back of his neck sleepily, Dean shrugged on a jacket, grabbed the keys of the motel room, and headed for the poorly-lit lobby. Sure enough, there, stood in front of the tourist leaflet display stand with his pondering head to one side, was Cas. Dean walked to stand beside him, taking in the range of local museums and nature spots, eyes lingering over the more typical attractions of the Niagara Falls and Disneyland. In Cas' hand was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a leaflet about a local apiary that promised the taste of the finest honey and all sorts of bee memorabilia.

Dean smiled affectionately. “Wanna go?” he asked, after a minute of just watching.

Cas finished the last of the Snickers bar in his hand and scrunched the wrapper into his pocket, swallowing thickly. “We are on a case.”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, leaning in to take a look at the leaflet for himself. “But after, maybe. If you'd like?”

Cas turned to look at him then and Dean winced at the red-tired eyes that stared into his own. “There is no need to divert our course for me, Dean.”

This told Dean the level of guilt he was currently dealing with: all-encompassing. Cracking a smile, Dean wrapped an arm around Cas' waist, then spun him into his arms. Cas hesitated for only a second then raised his own arms slowly to rest on top of Dean's, hands curled around his shoulders. Cas didn't raise his eyes, just continued to look at some vague spot through Dean's neck. Dean had to lean down to chase his mouth into a kiss, nudging his forehead, his nose, his cheeks until he managed to get Cas to look at him.

In a soft voice reserved only for these moments, Dean murmured, “Remember on the last hunt, when we drove past that abandoned library and Sam made me spin a 180 just to back and poke around in the dark for books?”

A frown followed by a slight smile danced across Cas' face at the memory. “I do. You suggested that I lay on the floor and make dust angels while Sam 'geeked out'.” He raised his fingers to do air quotations, tapping the tips of his fingers on Dean's shoulders, making him smile wide.

Dean rewarded him with another kiss, a little longer this time as he stretched his arms a little, pulling Cas closer.

“And remember a few months back when we passed that diner where they had that sign for the 'best triple cheese burger for three states' and I made us stop?”

This made Cas smile, but then, Dean thought, why wouldn't he? Cas always smiled at the things that made Dean happy, as though that were enough for him.

Nodding in agreement, Cas replied, “I do. They were correct; the burgers were delicious.”

“So,” Dean said, kissing him again, “How come we can stop for me and Sam on a little diversion, but we can't stop for you?”

Cas looked away, shrugging his shoulders. Dean leaned down to kiss his way up from Cas' collar, across stubbled jaw, to the corner of his mouth before whispering against his lips, “Whatever you're thinking, just stop. Okay?”

With a sigh, Cas pressed his face into Dean's neck and looped his arms so that they joined behind his head.

“I keep seeing their faces, Dean.”

Dean closes his eyes to the rumbling tone against his pulse point where Cas' lips have landed, and leans to plant a kiss on the back of Cas' head. He doesn't need to ask who the faces belong to; every person who has died that Cas feels responsible for. That is a lot of death masks to go through, and he understands the need Cas has now.

Another kiss to the side of Cas' head. Down to his ear. The edge of his jaw, until he can bury his face in Cas' shoulder and squeeze him tight. “Can I take you back to bed?”

Feeling Cas sigh against him, he squeezes him once more, then untangles himself. Taking Cas' hand, he rubs a quick, reassuring thumb over the back of it and pulls him gently back to their room. Pressing Cas firmly against the door as it clicks shut, he brackets him in his arms and holds eye contact.

“I can't take the faces away, Cas. I can't tell you it wasn't your fault; you wouldn't believe me if I did.  You know I have the same nightmares.”

Cas nods silently at Dean's statements; there's nothing that needs to be said.

“What do you do for me when the nightmares get to me, Cas?” Dean asks, hands still firmly pressed against the door, but his nose burying deep in his hair, his lips finding his temple, then the top of his ear before he grazes it gently with his teeth.

“Tell me. What do you do?” he whispers, another soft bite to Cas' earlobe and Dean smirks at the light gasp in response.

“I... You... I take care of you.”

“Exactly.” Dean leans his full weight against Cas, his hands weaving into his hair as he covers Cas' face in soft kisses, never missing an inch of skin. He teases kisses around his lips before pulling his lower lip into his mouth, flicking his tongue inside. Cas opens his mouth breathily to let him in, closing his eyes as Dean slowly swirls his tongue against his own. The kiss deepens, and Cas lets his hands slide slowly down the smoothness of Dean's back, resting lightly on his hips as Dean rolls them against him.

Their kiss intensifies, fingers caressing bare skin wherever they can find it, breaths gasped out at the friction of their bodies against one another. Dean nuzzles Cas to raise his face to look at him once more, and as their eyes meet, he whispers, “Let me take care of you, Cas.”

The air is filled with the sound of joined bodies hitting a cheap motel bed, soft, loving kisses, and skin on skin, as Dean chases away Cas' demons for the night.

  
  



End file.
